Absent Memories
by airwolf addict
Summary: Story Twenty Four. Hawke's heroic deed costs him something that can't easily be replaced. How will he and his family be able to handle with the loss and move past it when the events rely on his ability he might have just lost?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Deep, dark, and oppressive, shutting out the world and becoming more and more lost within himself, that was Hawke's attitude toward everything lately and had been since Dante's death not too long ago. He felt it was his fault, his broken promise, that caused her death. If only he had been faster, gotten there just a little sooner…

Caitlin watched daily business go by muted by her own thoughts. Nothing unusual happening, Dom had a reasonably full schedule but nothing outrageous, enough to keep them busy though, and off Dante's death.

Dom and Saint John were currently working on a movie stunt this afternoon and had left her and String to take care of things back at the hangar. It was more like only her though. Le was up at the library doing some research for a school project, Chance taking a nap, and String - well String was being his typical self - brooding and blaming himself for what just had to be all his fault.

Come to think of it, he hadn't even been up in one of the choppers, other than the trips to and from the cabin, since then. She wasn't sure she wanted him to be either though. Up alone to just fly and sort through things himself, that would probably be the best medicine for him, assuming he didn't decide his own life was worthless, only getting others needlessly hurt or killed, and decide to bury the chopper in the ground, himself included. Maybe it would be better if he worked things out down here on earth, not that if he really wanted to do himself in there weren't plenty of ways, but she would be able to keep a better eye on him down here.

What disconcerting thoughts, she mused to herself. She didn't marry some suicidal maniac, so why was she treating him like one? She knew exactly why; and yes, her actions and thoughts were a little off the deep end, but he hadn't exactly done much to change those conceptions either, didn't seem to care what she thought, didn't seem to care about much of anything.

"Hey String, what'd you want for lunch?" Caitlin asked. "I thought, with the boss gone, maybe we could get something special." Honestly she wasn't even all that hungry, but he had hardly touched food of any sort since coming back from that dreaded mission.

"Whatever," he replied absently, "not particularly hungry."

"No, of course you aren't," she muttered back.

He didn't hear, or chose to ignore, her snide remark though.

Something simple like sandwiches would suffice, then at least she wouldn't spend bunches of time on food he wasn't going to eat anyways.

\A/

**Metro Police Station**

**Van Nuys Area**

**California**

**2:33 pm**

Officer Renaulds picked up the continuously ringing phone and muttered some semblance of a grouchy 'hello,' or more accurately 'what do you want?'

"Officer," a cool laid back voice addressed casually. "I want you to listen and I want you to listen close cause I'm only going to say this once. The police force is a bit lax, and I think it would pretty easy to cause some major disasters and you wouldn't do much about it. I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourselves though. I'm giving you a chance to prove me wrong, if you catch me, you can book me for a good long time, but you have to catch me first."

Renaulds rolled his eyes, inwardly laughing at this kid who thought it would be funny to prank the police, getting the whole city in an uproar over nothing. Another harmless joke, that's all this was.

"A bus will blow, flames will grow, now be warned because now you know."

"Kid, enough with the stupid rhymes. I have a job to do."

"Remember, you've been warned."

Renaulds dropped the phone receiver back on the hook, annoyed that his break had been interrupted by some kid, it was funny though to watch how they thought they could get the police all in a tizzy from some meaningless threats.

\A/

"Hawke, eat it."

"Don't want it."

"Please," Caitlin pleaded, "you're skin and bones, and you'd probably feel better if you ate something."

"I'm just tired, and did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want to feel better? Why should I? I killed her Cait, because of me another innocent person is dead."

"It's not your fault, String. None of us could do anything else, we got out there as soon as we could-"

"She shouldn't have ever gone missing in the first place. I promised her…"

"That you would do all you could to help her," Caitlin finished, "and you did."

"No, if it were you, I wouldn't have left you alone and you know it. Because of my negligence she's dead. Don't bother trying to convince me otherwise because it would just be lie."

Caitlin threw up her hands, not knowing what else to do. What did you do with a stubborn Stringfellow Hawke that refused to listen to reason?

What could she do?

Hopefully time would ease the pain, but each time he would go deeper and deeper inside himself. If he kept this up eventually he would dig himself in so deep no one would be able to get him out. She hoped and prayed it would never come down to that, but he sure was doing his darndest to make sure it did.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Officer Renaulds glared over at the phone, somehow knowing it wouldn't be of any importance, but he was obligated to at least answer it.

"You don't listen very well," the voice said.

"Neither do you, kid. Now stop calling or I'll hunt you down and have you brought up on charges for pestering the police."

"Books could knock you out if they fell just right on you. What if the building was burning when they did? You won't get the chance to put this one off, officer. Everybody will know, I'll make sure of it."

\A/

String was sulking in front of the TV in the office with Caitlin still trying to talk some sense into him when a special report came on the news.

"This," the reporter said, holding a tape, " is a totally previously undisclosed recording of threats made to the Van Nuys police department. On it, and unidentified person threatens destruction of certain public city properties if his demands aren't met." Putting into a cassette player and pressing play, the threat became know city wide.

"Hawke, are you even listening to me?" Caitlin demanded.

"Yeah, sure."

"You can't continue living your life like this. Things happen, but there is no reason why you should give up on life. It's like you're stuck in a dark closet, surrounded by all your problems but refuse to…" she stopped as her husband suddenly leapt up out of his seat and charged out the door.

"Hawke, wait! Hawke!"

She ran in the direction he had just charged, reaching the outside just in time to see the Jet Ranger lifting off.

Dom jogged up beside her. "What was that all about?"

"It's all my fault. I-I must've said something to put him over the top…We were just talking, actually I was still trying to reason with him, and he was probably only half listening to me then he just got up and left…"

Maybe he just-"

"No," Caitlin interrupted, "he's going to do something stupid - I have to stop him somehow."

Grabbing the keys to the jeep, she slid in, revving the engine as Dom joined on the passenger side, then racing down the street.

"There," Dominic pointed ahead at the sky. "It looks like he's headed towards the library."

What would he want at the library? Caitlin demanded of herself, trying to get a step ahead but only succeeding in getting left further and further behind in rush hour traffic.

\A/

Landing abruptly in an open area in the parking lot, Hawke jumped out, running towards the library building the second the skids had touched down.

He threw open the door and immediately started herding people out the doors, warning them to stay away from the building.

"Sir," one of the librarians addressed. "I'm going to have to ask you to please leave if you are going to keep causing this trouble."

"It's not-"

"Sir, please leave now."

"Listen to me, Lady. I have reasons to believe there is a bomb hidden somewhere in this building, and I'll do my best to disarm it, but if I can't…"

He didn't have time to be arguing with one person over whether or not there was or was not a bomb. Leaving her to gape after him and finally to be safe leave herself, he went back to evacuating everyone from the area.

Screeching to a halt in the parking space nearest the Santini Air Jet Ranger, Dom and Cait saw no signs of Hawke.

"Where'd he go?"

"Inside?"

Making their through the chaotic crowd, Caitlin and Dominic shoved against the flow of the crows towards the library.

\A/

Tearing open the door to a dark closet, Hawke began searching for the bomb he knew was hidden somewhere around here.

"String!" Dom and Cait shouted in union.

He looked up in surprise. "You've got to get out. There's a bomb in here."

"Bomb?"

"Yeah, now go on!"

"You too, you are human you know."

"If it'll kill us, then it would be just as likely to kill you," Dom added.

"I'll get out, just have to make sure the place is clear; now go."

Reluctantly, Dom and Cait started for the exit, guiding and remaining occupants as they went.

Hawke went back to searching. He could hear the ticking, or was that just in his head? These days he had to wonder. Was there even a bomb in here? What if he'd made this all up in his mind? Without even thinking, he stopped momentarily, raising up as doubt mounted up inside him. No one had specifically said the library, no one had even said a closet, it was estimating, a guess. Just then his hand brushed something, and he pulled it out. Just as he'd feared.

"Uncle String?"

Spinning around, Hawke came face to face with his only nephew.

"What's going on?" Le asked, having just come out of a back study room with a friend who he had been working on a research project with and missed all the action and chaos.

Hawke threw a quick glance down at the explosive now resting in his hands then back at the two teenage boys.

He had thirty seconds to decide, thirty seconds to attempt disarming it and either save all their lives or end them or thirty seconds to try escaping.

He had to do what was in their best interest

Tossing aside the explosive and grabbing the hands of both boys, he made for the door, dragging the other two behind him.

An explosion from behind rocked shelves and shelves of books, another causing heavy volumes to tumble down, shards of glass came pelting down. Other explosives going off and sending more debris hurdling through the air.

Just outside the doorway, Hawke threw himself over the two teens as a final explosion shook the remaining parts of the building, windows shattering, flames growing, and chunks of wall crumbling as smoldering flames engulfed the area.

Hot ash and smoke hit burning flesh as Hawke used himself as a human shield for the two boys, smoke making it harder and harder to breath, choking as he tried ineffectively to draw in enough air until the world of pain, hurt, and fear faded into a black wave of nothingness.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Caitlin and Dom stood, aghast, beholding the awful sight that befell them. The once sturdy library now lay in shambles, String and Le lost somewhere in them.

"Someone call and ambulance," one person shouted. "There were still people in there."

A few hurried off to get help while they crept through the slowly settling smoke.

Fire engine sirens sounded off in the distance, coming to extinguish the remaining flames, but they showed little concern to them.

Near where the door had once stood, shattered glass and crumbled walls were colored red with a sticky bloody substance. Caitlin immediately started clawing through, struggling to remove heavy concrete chunks. Finally managing to remove the wreckage, Caitlin drew in a harsh breath, trying to force herself to stay calm.

"Dom, I found them."

Dom's blue-grey eyes widened in shock.

"String, my boy, how do you get yourself into these things?"

Gaining semi consciousness, String drew in a single gasping breath before succumbing to total unconsciousness.

\A/

**Three Weeks Later**

**Valley Trauma Center**

**Van Nuys, California**

"String, you've got to come back to us. You did such a good thing, saved Le's life and so many others, but don't you want to be around for them to thank you?"

Caitlin had been up here visiting String nearly every day for the last three weeks with no visible signs of encouragement but not losing hope. The doctor had said that they believed sometimes talking with a coma patient helped, and she was doing plenty of talking, but still waiting to see some of those positive results.

"Chance misses you too. He wants to know when he can see his Daddy again, but I wasn't sure he should see you like this… I love you, we all do, remember that and come back to us. Please."

"Mrs. Hawke, if you'll excuse me just a minute I need to-"

"It's ok, I was just leaving. Um, I'll be back later," she smiled gratefully at the young nurse, gathered her belongings, and left the room.

\A/

Forcing heavy eyelids open, Hawke glanced around what was quickly identified as a hospital room, a headache already pounding in the back of his head and threatening to worsen at the slightest turn of the head.

He couldn't remember how he had gotten here and what he could have done to put him in this terrible condition, but surely dying would have been better, not that he was much better than dead anyway, seemingly transfixed to his current position, a less than comfortable hospital bed.

He went to call for a doctor, nurse, anyone who would help, but his voice came only as a barely audible whisper.

His attention turned to the TV screen flickering up on the wall, leaving evidence that someone had been here recently. He read the captions that crawled across the bottom of the screen.

'Three weeks and still hardly anything is known about the mysterious hero at the city library in Van Nuys twenty one days ago. Our latest source said he is currently checked into the Valley Trauma Canter in Van Nuys California where his condition is still only described as unstable and highly traumatized. Only one life was lost and three critical injuries thanks to the heroic acts of this man and his bravery and intuition. If you have any more information or would like to share your opinions, please call or write in to…'

He blinked wearily a couple pf times as started to doze off again and tuned out the TV as it was already worsening his headache. Whoever that guy was, he had done a good thing. Sure hope he lives, he mused to himself until a beautiful red head, probably a few years younger than him, entered the room, a sense of worry and concern marring her delicate features as she crossed in front of his bed. She looked as if she hadn't slept well lately, tired, and that she had been crying, her eyes still red-rimmed and moist. The news story, the constant moaning he could hear down the hall, and now her, there was a lot more pain and grief than he remembered, granted, he didn't remember much of anything right now, but still.

Happening to glance in his direction, suddenly all the fear left, happiness and delight,_ and hope, _dancing in her eyes as she ran across the room, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tightly.

That sure wasn't any greeting he would have expected, but hey, who was he to complain? A beautiful young red head wearing a somehow familiar brown leather bomber that was a few sizes too big for her, he could have done a lot worse.

Tears of joy trickled down her face as she finally relinquished her strong embrace, still momentarily too excited and overjoyed to move, much less speak. Finally managing to form words, an excited squeal emitted from her lips as she hugged him close again, this time more cautious of his abused body.

"Oh String…"

String? What kind of a name was that? Maybe it was just a nickname or a pet name, something like that…but who was she? Not a nurse, too pretty in his opinion and the outfit just wasn't right. She obviously knew him, now if only he could remember who she was…

He tried to return the act of affection anyway, albeit a bit awkward that she was a complete stranger, but he couldn't quite muster the strength to move much more than his head, and that was horribly painful enough. At least someone, whoever she was, cared that he was alive.

"You alright, String?" Caitlin's voice sounded stressed, worry creeping in again. He was always so stubbornly mule headed, determined to get out of the hospital the fastest way possible, and the first to assure you that no matter that the doctors said, what medicines and painkillers they had him on, or the fact he could be barely hanging on for his life, that he was ok. He could be so infuriating sometimes when he refused to listen to all reason, yet the lack of that particular statement, saying that despite everything he was fine, worried her immensely.

"I-I don't remember….you…anything…"

That sounded more abrupt and harsher than he would have liked, but it was all truth. He didn't even know her, but he couldn't bare that hurt look that now overshadowed all else in those stunningly beautiful hazel blue-green eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, it will all come back in time," she stammered.

He sure hoped it did. He didn't want to continue to hurt such a kind soul, would even like to get to know her a little better. Whoa, buddy, slow down. He couldn't run so far ahead of himself like that, didn't know what to expect. For all he knew, she was already married and had kids, that she was just a good friend worried about his health and wellbeing.

"Stringfellow Hawke, only you could get yourself into this much trouble."

Stringfellow - so String was a kind of nickname, an abbreviation.

Thoughts raced through his head, all of them in different directions but still not getting anywhere. Sooner or later, they would all collide and he would have one helluva mess to sort through.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Caitlin was awkwardly silent. She had spent the last three weeks talking, hoping, and praying that he would make it, and now things were looking up a little, but he didn't remember anything - who he was, who she was, his job, his life, or even how he'd gotten in the hospital in the first place. Now that she'd explained what she knew about the explosion, little as it may be, she didn't really know what to say.

"Do you want me to send in the others?"

"Others?"

"You know, Dom and Saint John."

Actually he didn't know, or at least didn't remember but what could it hurt?

"Sure."

She smiled and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute."

She paused.

"Um, what is your name?" He hated having to ask but he needed to start matching names to faces if he was ever going to assimilate this all together.

"Caitlin," she said.

_Deputy Caitlin, _he mentally finished, the words just coming naturally although he didn't know why.

"Caitlin O'Shaunessey Hawke."

\A/

Saint John waited outside the door while the doctor finished his diagnosis, hopefully a good one.

Stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him, the doctor met the older Hawke face to face.

"He's got a broken rib and some pretty nasty bruises, but probably no lasting damage from the smoke inhalation. All things considered, he is doing remarkably well, and assuming there aren't any latent infections or complications, with some rest he should be good as new. I don't think he would be here for me to say this though if it weren't for that mysterious hero. You really should be thankful that other guy risked his life; otherwise, I'm not so sure Le would be here today."

"Believe me, I'm grateful, eternally gratefully, I just hope String doesn't die for it."

"String? You know him?" the doctor asked in surprise.

"Yeah, he's a floor up in the ICU and he's my brother."

Caitlin came hurrying down the hallway, uncaring about the glares she was receiving from the nurses down the hall.

"Saint John, he's awake!"

"String?" he asked even as he joined her. Of course it was String, who else would it be?

\A/

"String," Saint John greeted, a sappy smile plastered to his face, "glad to see you awake."

"Wish I could say the same," he muttered back. "I'm not sure it is much of an improvement."

"Well I think it is. You'll be out of here in no time and back home."

Home - home sounded good, but what exactly was home? He could almost envision it, but it stubbornly refused to stay just out of reach. Everything seemed so familiar yet so far away, so alien and strange. It was so frustrating to see all theses people, people that obviously loved and cared, but he couldn't remember any of them. If only he knew somebody…

He couldn't even remember himself, but he did know that he was surrounded by friends, friends that would do anything within their power, and even to stretch the limits, to do anything that they could to help him.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

A man dressed in all white, which he initially thought was a doctor but soon decided otherwise, joined the growing population of visitors.

"Hawke, glad to see you up."

"Not exactly up yet."

"Knowing you, you will be soon." He was actually surprised Hawke hadn't already attempted some form of escape despite his weak condition. "I'm sure they'll have you in physical therapy and up on your own in no time."

He sure hoped so. He had only been awake a little while and he was already getting tired of being in the hospital.

But what would he do when he did get out? Did he have a job? A family? What kind of car did he drive? Question after question bombarded him, but still he had no answers.

Dr. Rutherford joined the growing group in String's room. "I heard my patient has decided to show some signs of life after all."

"So I've been told, but now that you mention it, I am getting kind of tired again."

"You think you could be up to me asking a few questions first? Last time I let you sleep you didn't wake up for nearly four weeks."

"Alright I guess I can manage that.".

"So honestly, how do you feel?" Rutherford inquired.

"Like a snake bit, broke legged, gut shot dog draggin' nine suckin' puppies uphill."

Rutherford quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

Saint John, leaning against a counter raised startled hazel eyes. "You're what?"

"How the heck do you think I feel?" he rasped hoarsely. "My assumption from what Caitlin told me was that someone tried to blow me up."

"What is the last thing you remember?" Rutherford asked, continuing his interrogation.

"Nothing in particular. Occasionally I remember little things but most things are just a big blank."

"Amnesia maybe?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one diagnosing?"

"Humor me."

"Maybe, I'd rather think I got hit over the head rather than I'm loosing my mind.

It's just so frustrating, I don't know these people but they know me. They love and care for me but I can't do the same because I don't even know who they are, I don't even know myself…" he trailed off as he started to doze again.

"Get some rest, Hawke," he said quietly as he left the room.

\A/

"How are you today?" Caitlin asked as she entered the room.

"A little better," he lied. "Doctor has me on a bunch of meds for the pain, I'm getting physical therapy everyday and they want to send me to some shrink. He says I'm regaining my strength pretty fast all things considered."

"Don't you agree? I admit, I don't know how you feel but you do look a lot better."

"I don't know; maybe a little, but I don't know what to think; I-I just don't know."

"It'll be ok. We will work through it together, I promise."

That sounded vaguely familiar, admittedly, he was still here and she still cared so they must have worked something out.

He offered a weak smile. "Alright, I'll try, that is, assuming the doctors don't kill me in rehab first."

\A/

"Yeah, Le has been doing pretty well. Actually, he's watching TV back in the office now, be sure to tell String for me."

"I'm not sure it would help much," Caitlin replied ruefully. "He still hardly remembers anything. He's still trying to get used to the fact we are married and hasn't mentioned the hangar, Le, or even chance at all. The doctors hold out hope that everything will come back in time but nothing is written in stone and it has been a while…"

"Still planning on bringing him home soon?"

"Just as soon as the doctor lets me," Cait promised, "and I'll see about getting back to the hangar again soon; I guess it has been a rather long lunch break."

"And you haven't even eaten lunch yet, have you?"

"No," Caitlin admitted, "I guess I haven't."

"Don't worry about getting back here right away. Just bring my boy back in as close to one piece as possible and hurry up with it."

"Alright, alright," Caitlin answered. "I'll see what I can do."

\A/

Silently Hawke waited. He knew he had been at the hospital at least a week or two since waking up, but how long had he been out of it? Long enough to make some people incredibly worried. However long, he had been here long enough and he was sure it was about time he escaped this place; he also knew there was no possible way he would make it without some help.

He counted the methodical beeps of the machine beside him to pass the time. Last time he had even made it to three hundred and fifty before falling asleep. Admittedly, it wasn't a very exciting pastime, but there wasn't anything good to watch on TV and other than a short visit from Dom the other day, he hadn't had any visitors. Even the nurses weren't coming by as often now that he was pretty well stabilized.

Sometimes he would just sit back and think, but he didn't have much to think about. He just did things, not recalling how he did them, and people were just a blur in his mind. Caitlin, Dom, and Saint John the only ones vaguely sticking out, and even then only what he had found out recently.

Glancing up at the clock once again, he sighed heavily. Its second hand lagged slowly around the clock's face, mocking him, mocking him for every second he had to spend in this neutral colored nightmare. Trauma center yes, he was going to be even more traumatized after he got out of here, if he ever got out.

One thing was for sure, one way or another if he didn't get out of here soon they would have to transfer him up to the psych ward.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Caitlin ran in, embracing Hawke in her arms and capturing his lips with her own before suddenly drawing back in remembrance; he didn't know her all that well, didn't remember her.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," she mumbled in apology. "I forgot…"

"It's alright," he assured, amused by the embarrassed pink shade spreading across her cheeks. "I could even kind of get used to it."

She blushed as she began sharing the news that had gotten her so excited in the first place. "The doctor said you are making great progress and if you take it easy and continue rehab twice a week, you can come home."

"That is good news. But I think it is I that should have come racing in here and kissing you."

Home truly sounded great, but it would have sounded even better is he could remember what or where home was.

\A/

Dom had started the Jet Ranger and had it ready when Caitlin pulled up with String in the jeep.

"You ready to finally go home?"

"More than ready."

Greeting Dom and Saint John briefly then heading over to the waiting helicopter with Caitlin, he prepared to go home. Chance came scurrying out of the hangar. Caitlin went to intercept him, although not entirely sure what she'd tell him, but trying to avoid the inevitably awkward moment between father and son. How did you tell a three year old who had been missing his father for the last month that his dad no longer knew who he was?

Chance avoided Caitlin though, running straight past her and tried climbing into the back of the helicopter.

Ignoring the doctor's warnings not to lift anything more than about fifteen pounds, Hawke hoisted the youngster up into his lap.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Chance cried excitedly.

"Hey little guy, did Chance miss Daddy?"

Caitlin simply stared in amazement. It kind of hurt that he remembered Chance and not her, but at least he remembered something; that was a step in the right direction.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

\A/

The Jet Ranger landed smoothly in the end of the dock, the rotors slowing to a complete stop as they all climbed out.

Home sweet home. Or at least it was supposed to be.

Walking inside with the others, he looked around as if he had never been inside, not like he had lived the better portion of his life.

Was there any logic to what he did and did not remember? The doctor said his particular case was retrograde amnesia, so he should be able to remember things of the past easier than the more recent events. Why then could he remember his three year old son but not his wife? Not his parents? Were his parents even still living? If so, where did they live?

"You want me to go ahead and start fixing dinner?" Cait offered.

"Actually, I think I'd like to fix dinner. You know, start getting reacquainted with where everything is."

"Fine by me, just call if you need any help."

String set to work refamiliarizing himself with the kitchen and started cooking a meatless chili.

Forty minutes later they were all sitting down to dinner.

"Mmm, smells delicious," Caitlin complimented.

"Hopefully I didn't forget how to cook too. If I did, we all could be in trouble."

\A/

_Ominous grey clouds gathered in the quickly darkening sky. Waves crashed over the edges of the boat, water rushing onto the deck._

"_String," he heard a voice calling, "over here. Hang on so the…."_

_Howling wind whipped at his clothes as he struggled to reach his parents. Another wave broke over the side, knocking him off his feet and into the growing pool of water on the deck. The undertow and more waves washed him overboard, tumbling him around and around until he no longer knew which way was up and which was down, the waters too strong to swim against even if he had known._

_Saint John dove in after him, unafraid of what the waters could do to him, only concerned for his younger brother's wellbeing._

_The next thing he remembered, he woke up coughing and sputtering water, looking up into his concerned older brother's hazel eyes._

"_String, are you ok?"_

_He couldn't form words, too shocked to even think clearly, dwelling constantly over two simple facts - their parents weren't there and that Saint John had saved his life. That could only mean one thing._

"_String," Saint john repeated again, even more concern evident in his voice._

_He wanted to tell Sinj he was ok, that everything would turn out alright, but he wasn't so sure it was._

_Despite his own exhaustion, Saint John helped his younger brother all the way back to the cabin, mostly carrying him a good portion of the trip._

_It was a long, tiresome trip, and by the time they reached the cabin, it was all he could do to draw in enough air to keep on breathing, most definitely the most exhausting and most terrifying time of his young life, and most definitely something he never wanted to do again, but he would be eternally grateful for Saint John's bravery and courage. He owned him everything, his very life, because Saint John was the very reason he still had a life to live._

\A/

Caitlin woke early the next morning but figured Chance would also be up soon so she had better get started with breakfast.

Slowly descending down the stair from the loft, she saw Chance already working his way through some French toast and making a mess with the syrup as String set two more plates next the already full and waiting coffee mugs,

"Looks to me like you're finding your way around the kitchen pretty well."

"Some of it is starting to come back and I had a dream last night…"

"What kind of dream?" Cait inquired.

"Under normal circumstances I might call it more of a nightmare, but in this case it could actually be a good thing, assuming it is all true."

Now he really had her confused. How could a nightmare be good?

"I remember Saint John better and our parents' deaths, how he saved me."

Definitely a mixed bundle, it was good that he could remember, but that wasn't the easiest thing to start out with either.

\A/

"Have you heard anymore about String?" Saint John inquired, "How he's getting along at home or anything?"

"Yeah, Cait says his physical injuries are healing well; one of the doctors' biggest concerns was about the psychological trauma and sometimes it causing other more complex problems."

"What kind of other problems?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which he already probably has a bit of, and emotional detachment. I mean, you know how he can be."

"Yeah," Saint John replied. "I definitely know."

"Today he is going to physiotherapy and if he isn't too tired after that Caitlin said she would bring him by to visit for a while."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"We're here," Caitlin announced as Hawke helped Chance out of the back of the Jet Ranger. The doctors had warned about emotional detachment, possibly being afraid that he would hurt them again if he forgot them like he had this time, and he was still pretty distant, Chance being the exception. Practically any time you saw one the other wasn't far away. Bits of memory were coming back, mostly of distant past, but at least it was something. Flying was another oddity though; it didn't seem to phase him in the least, like he knew exactly what was going on, but he hadn't made any mention of flying himself, something he normally pushed pretty hard for.

String greeted Saint John warmly and now with more familiarity then Dom with a vague sense of recognition.

Dom hoped Hawke couldn't see the pain that mounted up inside of him. String had enough to go through and didn't need to feel bad about something he couldn't help. But they had been through so much together, surely he would remember something…

"Dom. Dom," Caitlin repeated.

"Uh yeah," he answered absently as he brought his thoughts back to the present.

"I was thinking I should be able to start coming back up here on a more regular basis. String still has physiotherapy, but he's getting along pretty well and should be alright at the cabin. I know you've been really understaffed lately planning for four pilots then suddenly down to one."

"Le is doing better so Saint John is flying again and we're managing alright."

"I should be up here though. Honestly I don't think he would much mind, especially if I left Chance with him."

"Are you sure that is such a good idea? I heard psychological trauma and amnesia can make one more irritable and.."

"I'm sure," Caitlin said confidently. "They've been getting along perfectly. It's scary how much they are alike."

He had his hesitations but the extra help would be nice. "Fine," he conceded, "but only if you're positive."

"I am. Now where is he anyway?"

"I think he went back to talk to Saint John; whether he remembers it or not they are still the inseparable Hawke brothers, you know."

\A/

"Are you sure it's such a good idea? That'll leave just you and Saint John running the business."

"Dom, we can handle it."

"What if-"

"Dom, go. You've been planning to go to this for weeks."

"That was before String had that accident," Dominic protested.

"You ran it by yourself during Vietnam then just you and String for years after that; Just Saint John and I will be ok for the four days you'll be gone. It'll be fun, now go and enjoy yourself."

\A/

"Don't worry. It will all come back in time, and I can tell you're already doing a lot better than you were."

String simply looked back at his brother, hoping that he was right.

"We're her for you. No matter what," Saint John promised.

"Thanks Sinj," the younger brother said in genuine gratitude as he hugged his older brother and went to join his wife who was waiting on him to go home.

Saint John smiled as he watched his brother leave. Sinj, he thought happily, a nickname String had called him since they were kids, a name that only String typically called him.

\A/

"_Uncle Dom," Saint John radioed from the cabin, his own voice more than a little shaky. "We need your help. The boat and the storm…." his voice trailed off again. He had always learned you had to keep calm during emergencies like this but that was much easier said than done. " Our parents are gone - and String - he's just sitting there, he won't say anything."_

"_Ok, so you all were out in the boat when the storm came up and the boat was capsized," Dom said trying to piece together the little bits of information he had just received._

"_Uh-huh," Saint John replied. "Dom, I'm scared."_

_String watched his brother carefully, tuning out the scared, weak and trembling voice and focusing on the bravery and courage it took to take charge like this. Saint John had lost his parents just as much as he had, but still he went on making sure someone knew, that someone could take care of them._

"_Just stay calm and stay warm," Dominic advised. "I'll be there as soon as I can."_

_As soon as the storm had cleared enough for him to get the chopper in, Dom landed on the dock and rushed in. Compassion and concern were evident in his features; he'd just lost his best friend, but instead of dwelling on the things he couldn't change he focused on the things he could change. There would be time to break down later, not they needed him. He had lost a good friend, they had last a father and mother._

_Dom took them under his wing, becoming like a second father to them, sheltering them. Dominic Santini - owner and operator of Santini Air to most; father , friend, and mentor to them._


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Caitlin's hand resting easily on the stick, she directed them back up to the hangar. Chance was still half asleep in the back, as was his father, or maybe that was just his way of avoiding her.

Hawke, whether he realized it or not, was acting more and more like himself every day, at least as far as his medical attention was concerned. He had finally decided he had enough of the shrink, not that they'd hit it off very well from the beginning, and canceled his remaining weekly appointments. He had also similarly canceled his physiotherapy. Said he'd had enough, he was well enough to finish healing on his own, and more importantly **without** the doctors' help.

Yep, her old Stringfellow Hawke was definitely coming back, gradually as it may be. What worried her most was his lacking of interest in flying. Normally, that was one of the things he pushed hardest for, often against the doctors' wishes even, but he still hadn't said anything about it. Should she broach the subject herself? Or had he just had enough and wasn't interested anymore? No, that didn't make sense either. Supposedly his past memories were more easily accessible; he now remembered his parents' deaths, and his close call, maybe he just hadn't gotten to the flying parts yet. She should just be patient and wait, she told herself.

But being patient and waiting wasn't any fun, and she was liking it less and less as she went on.

Flaring the nose and landing the Jet Ranger on the tarmac right outside the Santini hangar, Caitlin cut the power to the engines and helped Chance out of the back as the rotors slowed overhead.

"Coming? She asked of her husband when he continued to idly sit in his seat.

"Yeah," he answered. "I was just thinking."

\A/

"Santini Air," Hawke greeted gruffly.

Dom had left earlier that morning in the other Jet Ranger for a high school reunion that Caitlin had insisted he go to, and Saint John currently had the red white and blue one somewhere enroute to Sacramento, so they were booked for the day but perhaps something later on would be available. Cait was off doing something in the back, but he could handle answering the phone on his own.

"How are you Hawke?"

The voice sounded so familiar, yet it was still far away. Why the hell wouldn't his mind stop playing these cruel tricks on him? He just wanted to remember these who these people were, what he was supposed to be dong with his life, and just to live like any other normal human being on the planet. Cait thought he had canceled his sessions with the psychiatrist because he was being stubborn, mule headed, and thought they were a waste of time, but really it was because **they** **were a waste of time. **Nothing had come back any better with him constantly asking the same questions over and over again. Things might've gone better if the famed psychiatrist could have gotten it through his thick skull that he had amnesia, not Alzheimer's.

"Fine I guess," he muttered in reply.

"Have you, by any chance, recently changed anything in your personal records where someone would have needed to get a hold o f your medical records?"

Suddenly he could place a face and name with the voice - he was that man in the hospital room all dressed in white… Michael he'd said, yeah Michael.

"No."

"You're positive?"

"Not since…." What was it exactly that had put him in the hospital in the first place? "At least not since I got out of the hospital. Why?"

"Your records have been brought up a lot recently. Things like who paid for your stay and who you were supposed to be staying with after being discharged, where you work, have all been very thoroughly investigated as of lately."

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

"I'll look into it some more," the spy promised, "but stay on your toes for trouble."

\A/

Sitting in a fold-up chair just outside the hangar, String looked over at the red Steersman resting in the hangar's shadow. He had hear the others talking about it the other day, needing a little work before the film shoot late next week. Other than that it and the jeep, the hangar looked pretty empty today with both choppers gone.

The copters - it made him wonder even more what past he might have had with them. His wife, brother, and surrogate father were all actively involved in this business, so it wasn't a far stretch to assume that he was too, but there was still a piece missing. Was he also a pilot? If so, would the flying skills eventually come back or would he have to relearn them all? Was he, perhaps, a mechanic? Was he any good at what he did? Obviously he couldn't be terrible if he still worked here, or did Dom just not have the heart to fire what had practically become his son?

Absently he walked towards the old bi-plane, running his hand down its sides and wings, something definitely familiar about it. What, he wasn't quite sure yet, but something was most definitely there. He slipped into the pilot's seat and settled in, not intending to actually start it, but just to get a feel for it, too see if it brought back any memories…

\A/

Caitlin set down the toddler and proceeded fixing lunch for all of them. Business had been slow all day, hardly a plane or helicopter leaving all day on this end of the airfield, and now seemed as good a time as any to work on lunch,

"Mommy - plane," Chance said, pointing out the door and past the roll top door.

"Yep, plane," Caitlin answered. Such an event wasn't unusual at an airfield, but maybe he had hear her earlier musings about where everybody might be.

"Wanna go," Chance told her.

Come to think of it, Chance had only been in helicopters. He did seem to posses the love of them though, maybe he'd like planes too. Now wasn't the time though, maybe once Hawke got better and the others returned.

"Wanna go," Chance repeated. "Go with Daddy."

Puzzled, Caitlin finally looked out the door in the general direction. Sure enough, the Steersman was taking off down the runway.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

What did he think he was doing?

"Hawke," Caitlin radioed, irritation at his foolishness unhidden from her voice. "Hawke, come in."

She received no reply.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "You haven't been checked over by a doctor. You don't even know you'll remember how to land it. You could loose your license!" Caitlin railed. "You've got to bring in that plane now."

Outside she could see the Stearman dip down out of sight and disappear beyond the tree line.

What on earth did he think he was doing? He couldn't just decide to fly off for no good reason, not in his current condition. What if he didn't remember everything? What if he didn't remember how to land? What if- she stopped herself before she could come up with any more ways this flight was going to end up ill-fated, before she could up with any more terrible, gruesome way she thought he was going to kill himself because he forgot to do something.

Stringfellow Hawke was a natural born flier, one with the air, a little irrational at times, but not crazy. Either he had something in mind or some kind of plan. She just had to trust it wasn't a plan that would end with a rough landing.

Wearily sitting down in the chair next to the desk, she looked up at the clock and tried to estimate about when he should be back but it was an unreasonable task. If the plane had a full tank of fuel, he might not be back for hours. Where would he go? She wondered. Maybe she could follow him there, possibly talk him through landing if he did remember and fly back herself, saving herself from some worry.

First, she had to get some transportation. Dom had the red, white, and blue chopper, his own pride and joy, and Saint John took the other, Hawke had the Stearman and that left her with…. nothing. Maybe someone down the strip would loan her something, just for a little while.

With that thought in mind, she pulled open the door and started to step through, but instead coming face to face with a square jawed man, piercing, cold, beady, little eyes staring at her as a menacing half grin crept across his lips.

"Going somewhere Mrs. Hawke?"

\A/

Bringing in the old plane fast, Hawke made his final approach toward the landing strip.

Suddenly freezing up, he didn't remember what to do next. Think, think, think! He forced himself to try to figuring it out, he had to do this, literally, he had no choice but to land at some time, one way or another. But it just wasn't there. It was like he'd never landed a plane before, didn't have the faintest clue what to do next. The ground was rushing up too fast; he'd never be able to do it, not without stuffing the nose into the ground first.

Pulling up hard, he managed to pull out just in time, the wheels of the landing gear momentarily making contact with the ground then lifting up again.

\A/

"Santini to Angel one," Michael's voice sounded over the radio.

"I read you , Michael," Saint John answered. "What's up?"

"Who is supposed to be at Santini Air right now?"

"Cait, String, and Chance I think. Why?"

"Nobody is there and the Stearman is gone, but no one locked up and the authorities thought it looked like there might've been a struggle."

"Where are they now?"

"I don't know; we haven't seen any of them yet."

"I'm still enroute from Sacramento, but I'll be there as soon as possible."

\A/

Coming around again, this time much slower, Hawke approached the runway, hoping he didn't make a terrible mess out of this because if he did, chances were high he wouldn't come out of it very well. What had he been thinking going up there alone? Stupid, stupid, he told himself over and over again. Just because he _thought_ he remembered how to fly didn't mean he should go up alone the first time, especially when he didn't remember how to land.

Keep the nose up, pull back on the throttle, press down slowly on the pedals. He went through the motions mechanically, from practice rather than truly remembering everything, yet somehow knowing exactly what to do next. At last all three wheels made contact with the ground. Letting out a deep sigh of relief, he taxied down the runway.

\A/

Chance crawled out from under the desk where he had hidden minutes before when some loud voice, more like a snarl, had sounded near the door and scared him away and out of sight.

"Mommy," he called. "Mommy?"

\A/

Piloting the Stearman back in front of the Santini Air hangar and cutting the engines, Hawke climbed out, thinking next time he went up in the plane he was definitely taking a co-pilot, and that was **if** he ever went back up in it.

"Mommy?" he heard Chance calling.

He couldn't exactly point his son straight to where Caitlin was since he himself didn't know but together they should be able to work out something.

"Chance, what did you need?"

"Daddy!" Chance cried, running up to him and hugging him tightly. "Mommy gone."

"We'll fin her," he promised, "don't worry. I'll find her and bring her back safe.'

He just didn't know how hard it would be to keep that promise.

"Santini, Angel one."

"Come on back," Hawke replied.

"Good to hear from you, Hawke. Where are the others?"

"They aren't here, but I'll take care of whatever it is."

Wish you could, Michael thought to himself.

The criminal that had set the library on fire, and nearly killed many people in the process were attempting to flee the country, but what could Hawke do to prevent them?

Even is he would make an exception to his no longer being involved in Airwolf missions, an agreement he probably neither remembered nor would in the long run stick to, he didn't even remember Airwolf, much less how to fly her.

"Michael, what is it?"

"There isn't anything you can do about it, Hawke. Let it go; I'll see about organizing a team to go after them."

"What is it?" Hawke demanded.

"Remember the explosion that put you and Le in the hospital when the library was bombed?'

"No, not really."

"Exactly my point."

"Just continue."

"The criminals responsible escaped police custody and are trying to flee the country with hostages and already have a head start. The only way we'd ever catch up is with a fighter jet or Airwolf and I don't have time to go threw the whole committee _and_ Langley to get the jet."

"So you need me to fly Airwolf and take out these bad guys with out hurting the hostages if possible?" Hawke reasoned.

"You remember Airwolf?" Michael asked. He knew some of Hawke's memories had come back but nobody ever said they all had, or that they all would.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

"_She promised me dammit. She promised me."_

_Dom placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but didn't have any great words of encouragement this time. What was he supposed to say? Come on, kid, I know you think you're cursed and everyone your love your loosed - your parents, your girlfriend, your brother, now Gabrielle - but everything will turn out ok? No, that wasn't going to work at all._

_Setting the dehydrated, abused, lifeless body reverently back down on the scorching Libyan desert sand, a look of hatred, determination, and revenge crowded out the love and grief in his eye. Now it was all about getting even. Moffet had simply gone too far._

_Before he knew it, they were soaring over the sandy dunes, finally coming to a mid-air hover not far away from a dusty jeep and the man, the monster, that had created this amazing, beautiful, deadly, destructive machine in the first place._

_Knowing the Lady's one weakness and his only chance, Moffet lined up and shot for the mid-air refueling intake, tightening his grip on the trigger and…_

_Missile after missile impacted the ground, fire and flames engulfing the jeep and everything, and everyone, around it, another couple followed, obliterating the ground. Long after the evil genius creator was gone, he empty the entire remaining arsenal on Moffet._

'_Click, click, click.' No more armament, everything was used up, more than plenty._

"_String, it's done."_

_He almost physically had to pull his fingers of the trigger and it was only then that the urge to get total revenge diminished and everything else started to come back - the pain, the grief, the sorrow, regret, guilt…_

_

* * *

  
_

"_No matter how many times I see her, she just takes my breath away."_

"_Yeah."_

_

* * *

  
_

"_How fast is that bird?"_

"_We don't know yet. So far it has only slightly exceeded the speed of sound."_

"_No helicopter can fly faster than sound."_

"_Airwolf can. Basically, Airwolf is an aerodynamic lifting body with a twin turbine driven rotor system that can propel it to three hundred knots._

"_In other words, Airwolf is a fast, twin engine, jet chopper."_

"_One can express it in those terms, except this jet chopper can disengage its rotor system and ignite these two additional turbine. Nine point six seconds after ignition Airwolf can exceed mach one from sea level to sixty five thousand feet. _

_The crew consists of an in-flight weapons specialists in the electronic data command center to monitor turbine temperatures, fuel and lubricant pressure, rotor synchronization and all onboard flight systems. The second crewman is a countermeasure specialist who's primary MOS is to suppress, neutralize, or destroy any weapons threatening the integrity of Airwolf. He also has duplicate flight system controls in case the aircraft commander becomes incapacitated. And finally, the aircraft commander who is responsible for flight control, target acquisition, and weapon system selection, the latter offering him fourteen firepower options ranging from 30mm canons to nuclear tipped Shrike missiles. In other words, Airwolf if a mach one plus chopper that can kick butt._

_

* * *

  
_

_The Lady - beautiful and deadly, majestic and yet so destructive. She could be used to defeat and defend, or, in the wrong hands, to destruct, destroy, to obliterate and annihilate._

\A/

"Hawke?"

Michael's voice broke threw Hawke's silence and memories.

"Tell me where and when, I'll be there."

"Hawke, you can't go off on some half cocked idea that everything will work out and you'll suddenly remember how to fly Airwolf. Airwolf is a highly sensitive, one of a kind, piece of military hardware, Just getting it out of the Lair takes a good amount of skill and combat flying isn't something you can hope goes well and let fate take care of the rest, you seem to have forgotten that."

"I haven't forgotten," he rebutted. "Innocent people will die if I don't do something about it though. What if Caitlin were one of them?"

"It's a Beechcraft 1900 heading for the Mexican border, somewhere near Baja," Michael imparted reluctantly.

"Thanks, Michael."

'Hawke, wait. At least let me be your engineer or something, take some one else with you."

"Don't have the time to pick you up," he replied abruptly. "Got to go."

\A/

"There she is, even more beautiful than I remember."

The sleek black helicopter basked in the late afternoon sun, the warm rays being absorbed by the dark metallic fuselage.

So far, memory served, at least long enough to get here. Now all he had to do was remember how to fly her.

Rising up from the chimney slowly, he looked about the controls making sure he remembered how everything worked before starting off.

"Ok, you're going to have to be a true angel today because I want all the extra help I can get."

Shooting off over the valley, above mesa and canyon, they began their trip to Baja.

Airwolf, stunning as she may be, could be and was intimidating to many people, and with good reason. Chance was the anomaly, String thought to himself as he sent a quick glance in the direction of his son. Maybe it was because he had always been around helicopters of some sort all short three years of his life; if he'd been born any earlier, Cait probably would have had him right here in the Lady's cockpit. Maybe it was inherited, but that still didn't quite explain everything. He seemed perfectly at home on either Jet Ranger, and that was a good thing considering it was a daily occurrence, but something was different with the Lady. The array of buttons, knobs, and sensors - it was almost like it wasn't just a panel of lights and switches just waiting to be pushed and to see what happened. Without being told, he knew he wasn't to touch any of them, and seemed to have a good idea what each would do. He looked almost as if given the chance he could fly her himself. Now that was a scary prospect - a three year old at the controls of something like Airwolf. What was even more frightening was that he would be more willing to let Chance have a go at it than some people he knew who had a lot more flying time.

Approaching the area, he scanned for any other aircrafts in the vicinity. Nothing yet, but they'd be here, and he would be waiting.

\A/

Fluttering open eyelids to reveal hazel eyes, Caitlin squinted in the dark as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

"Ah, Mrs. Hawke, I see you finally decided to rejoin us. I truly am sorry about that, but we just couldn't have you making a big ruckus and drawing lots of attention, could we?"

"What do you want from me?" she demanded.

"Nothing much," the younger man replied, "just safe passage."

"Safe passage?"

"Evidently, your husband has quite a hero complex, enough to die to save many others."

"What does he have to do with you?" Caitlin questioned as she tried to wriggle free.

"We didn't want him coming after us, trying to shoot us down or something. And he wouldn't do it with you aboard."

"What makes you so sure?" Caitlin spat. "Ever heard of sacrifice for the greater good?"

"I have, as you say, friends in high places, and have gotten a good look at Mr. Hawke's medical records - all of them - from the local hospitals, VA hospitals, FIRM clinic, the one in Annapolis, and more recently the trauma center in Van Nuys. The psychiatrists can't figure what makes him tick, after all the trauma he's gone through, what give him the drive to keep going; he refuses most the help the doctors offer, says he prefers to heal on his own. Sorry to say it, Mrs. Hawke, but it looks like you married a time bomb. It's just a matter of time until he goes off and does something rash."

"What does that have to do with anything? Why would you care if I married a 'time bomb' or not? It doesn't affect you; it's my problem, not yours."

"on the contrary, it does. If that bomb goes off while we're fleeing the country, we - all of us - could end up dead. I'm depending on your theory of 'sacrifice for the greater good' being wrong. You see, some bombs never go off. Some are disarmed and some are disposed of before they get the chance to reek their havoc. I'm counting on being able to disarm him and dispose of him, watch him slowly melt away until he isn't good for anything anymore, and then he will suffer for the rest of his life."

\A/

Again, Hawke tried to keep his focus on the plane they were waiting for, to keep his thoughts off his son and on task.

Slowly everything faded away and he saw Airwolf only yards away. _The ominous whomp, whomp of a Sikorsky invading their territory. A missile rocketed through the sky, but not towards Airwolf, towards him. Then nothing, nothing until he woke up gasping for air, trying to draw in a breath but unable, being suffocated by an unbearable pain raging throughout his entire body._

"_Get him back on the oxygen," a muddled, far away voice ordered._

"_Anesthesia," another said._

"_He's under too much pain. Put him back under…"_

_

* * *

  
_

"_I've given it a lot of thought, but I'm not where I want to be."_

"_String, you're making good progress-twice as far as the doctors had estimated," she interrupted._

"_Maybe, but it's not good enough. You deserve better."_

"_I said I would stick with you," Caitlin argued._

"_I know what you said, but listen to what I'm saying. You can do better. I can't take care of you or a kid right now and you know it, maybe it would be better if you found someone else."_

"_Find someone else?" she didn't know whether she was more upset about the stupid idea or hurt. "I don't need to find someone else."_

"_I can make sure you're both well provided for," he continued, "it's not that I don't love you, both of you, I just want what's best for you and that's not me."_

"_Well maybe I don't want what's best for us then. I want you."_

"_Caitlin, it won't work. You don't need me, and our kid deserves better." She sat stunned in her chair as he started to walk out. "I'm sorry, Cait."_

_

* * *

  
_

"_I wasn't really quite ready for the baby yet," he admitted, "and you're sure everything is alright?"_

_She could sense the tension in his voice. "I'm positive. The baby's a little early, but nothing to worry about from what the doctors say." Suddenly she grinned, "Speaking of which, don't you think it's about time your son got a name?"_

"_A son," Hawke remarked in wonder. He whispered in an awestruck voice, "I have a son?" He raised incredibly blue eyes to meet hers. "I haven't really thought about it much, Cait. I mean I've had plenty of time to… but he's already here and …"_

_Taking in the stricken tone in Hawke's voice Cait shook her head. "Would you like to hold your son, String?"_

_He shook his head, but his eyes told her he did. And with that, she leaned across the covers and placed their son gently in his arms. Staring at him in wonder, Hawke shifted his awkward grip on the baby even as he worked a tiny hand free and grabbed hold of his finger._

_Watching them, she smiled. "Well," she said after a long minute, "what about that name?"_

_Tearing his gaze away from his son for a moment, Hawke grinned at her. "Chance," he whispered, "because we got our second chance, and you took one on me." _

It was all starting to settle back in it's proper place. He still didn't remember what exactly had put him in the hospital and caused him to loose all these precious memories, but it didn't really matter. There were hostage in that plane and he had to get them to land without hurting them. Not 'if possible' he would have to make it possible. What if Cait were on that plane? Most likely she wasn't, but if she were, there wouldn't be any way he could shoot it down and it should be any different for someone else's wife either.

"Plane," Chance said even as the aircraft identification program automatically started in the back.

"Huh?" focus, he told himself, you have to focus, for your own sake, and Chance's.

"Plane," Chance repeated, pointing towards the north as a plane came into view.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

The plane glided across the air easily with amazing maneuverability, Climbing a bit, then once again settling into and easy cruising speed, it soared past, paying little to no attention to the lethal , shark like helicopter waiting for them.

It surely looked natural enough, not a thing in the world seemed out of place, but that was how it was supposed to look wasn't it? On the other hand, he couldn't just go shooting down any plane that came this way either. Actually, he couldn't shoot them down until he was assured there weren't any hostages aboard.

'ID scan - five life signs. Beechcraft 1900 with chain guns, no other armament.'

Not a typical puddle jumper, but no gunship by any means.

Hawke picked up the tail as the small plane sailed overhead. Once Airwolf had picked up the tail, it turned around, swooping in a wide arch, guns firing haphazardly towards Airwolf.

Hawke returned fire, missing intentionally.

Instantly, the enemy pilot knew this had to be the legendary high-tech helicopter and the ace pilot that he'd been threatened would come after him, and his hope that taking the hostages would provide him safe passage seemed to be working thus far.

Caught by a sudden downdraft as Airwolf darted past, the airplane lost several feet, then was unable to climb because Hawke had Airwolf hovering directly above, gradually dropping closer and closer to the plane and leaving the other pilot no choice but to drop as well.

"You can't drop any lower," the older man warned, "he's trying to force us down; you can't play into his plan."

"What would you like me to do then?" the young pilot asked irritably. "Let him hit us?"

"He wouldn't."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"It's just a game of chicken."

"Yeah, and have you ever played a game when neither one moves and you crash into each other?"

The remark seemed to have no effect on the other pilot. "He wouldn't do it; he's too afraid of hurting his beloved wife. Isn't he, Mrs. Hawke?" he taunted.

"You yourself said he's a ticking time bomb, and he could go off at any minute." She hoped that sounded more defiant that she felt. At times he could be that big explosion of emotions and irrationality waiting to go off, but honestly she didn't think he would be able to take out this plane if he thought there was even the slightest possibility of her being on here.

Suddenly a more frightening thought came to her. Hawke still didn't remember everything, didn't truly remember her. If that was him flying the Lady, that would mean he had at least landed the Stearman alright and remembered enough to fly the Lady, but what if he still didn't remember her? Instinct and repetition and practice could take over and this plane would be falling from the sky in a smoldering ball of fire before she even had time to think about putting up a fight.

\A/

Saint John landed the Jet Ranger abruptly on the tarmac just outside the hangar.

"String? Where are you? Cait?"

No sign of either of them. "Looks like Michel was right," he muttered to himself. Things were looking up now though. The Stearman had returned, but the jeep was still gone. Nothing looked particularly abnormal to him other than the hangar being closed in the middle of the day.

Outside a white FIRM limo pulled up and Michael and two more investigators climbed out.

"Michael, what's going on?" Saint John asked.

"We're still trying to figure that out. Hawke took Airwolf after some fleeing criminals and Cait is still missing, and I'm not sure where Chance is."

"Cait is missing. String in Airwolf, and Chance somewhere in between?! What am I supposed to do with that? By the time I could get catch up to String, the action will be over; Caitlin has gone missing without a trace, and you don't have a clue where Chance is. You can't just let a three year old wander around wherever he pleases." In disgust he stormed off into the other end of the hangar.

\A/

"He's too close, far too close," the pilot cringed as the helicopter dropped closer, sounding almost as if he would try landing on top of their plane.

"Keep your altitude," the older man snapped.

Airwolf dropped behind for a moment the gunfire rattled against the plane's sides.

"I don't want to die!" the younger man cried out, suddenly dropping altitude and hunting for the nearest place he could land the plane.

Caitlin struggled with the ropes cutting into her wrists, trying to loosen them and gain her freedom while her captors argued over how high they were flying.

The older pilot slammed his fist into the back of the younger man's head, knocking him out cold, and taking the controls himself and soon they were back to their original altitude.

Connecting a radio link between Airwolf and the plane, Hawke ordered them to land.

Instead the other pilot attempted to drop back behind again.

"Dammit, why can't they listen, just for once?"


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

"Daddy," Chance addressed.

"Not now, buddy. Daddy's busy."

"There's a chopter," Chance persisted.

Hawke cursed as a missile ate up the short the short distance between its source and Airwolf. Pulling up hard, he just barely managed to avoid the helicopter's missile.

The Seahawk moved in, providing aid to the fleeing aircraft not far ahead. After this was all over, he was going to have to have a not so nice talk with Michael about giving him all the facts. First, a plane with no armament but possible hostages, then it has guns, now an American helicopter was trying to shoot him down.

Stealing a quick glance at his son who was still sitting quietly in the co-pilot/weapons engineer's seat next to him, he grinned, receiving another smile in return. "Ready to go up?"

Rocketing straight up, then turning on herself, Airwolf came down quickly behind the newest enemy aircraft. Loading a Hellfire and targeting the Seahawk, he soon had eliminated the only major threat, then returned to the task of getting the plane to land.

"Land it," he ordered, "or you'll be next."

"Oh contraire, I don't think you'd shoot us down."

"Why would the hell you think that? You've seen first hand I can, and if necessary will."

"You wouldn't for the same reason you haven't already. Your wife is on board."

If there had ever been any suspicions now they were confirmed, not that he had truly doubted it much to begin with. Family was too precious to him, something he'd lost too many times and wasn't prepared to loose again.

"I wouldn't be so sure," he rebutted as coldheartedly as he could manage, already knowing he wouldn't be able to kill her if it saved his own life.

"You're a terrible liar, Hawke."

By now they were scarcely a minute away from Mexican airspace where he could no longer legally do anything to stop them without going through the Mexican government, not that that would stop him, but forcing them down would be much easier if he got it done on his own home turf.

Wincing in pain as she did so, Caitlin pulled at the tiny tail of rope, it squeezing on already raw wrists as it became tighter before loosening, but her efforts were well rewarded. The heavy ropes slid off with a thud in front of her,

Hearing the noise, the pilot spun around. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Fighting back," she answered boldly. "What, did you think I was going to give up without putting up a little fuss? I am a Hawke after all."

Unhesitating, she lashed out at him and used the opportunity to reach for the unconscious younger pilot's gun.

\A/

"Knightsbridge, this is Airwolf requesting clearance to land."

"Granted. You take care of that plane, Hawke?"

"Nope. I just provided a distraction."

A puzzled looked crossed the FIRM director's face then he saw Airwolf coming in, followed by the Beechcraft.

\A/

Still donning a grey Airwolf flight suit, Hawke, with Chance, followed by Caitlin soon joined the group in Michael's office.

Dom watched the three amble casually in, almost as if the previous few hours' activities had never taken place, a look of amazement crossing his features, Saint John beside him also waited as his brother and his family entered, wondering how in the world one family could get into so much trouble and still look so calm about it. Even the three year old looked unphased, if anything happy and excited.

The debriefing was a quick one as it was already late and everyone wanted to get home.

Shaking his head as they walked out, Saint John simply stared at his brother. "How'd you pull it off?"

"Honestly, I didn't do much. Cait had most the hard work."

"Yeah," Saint John said skeptically.

"Honestly. But, Sinj, you had better watch out."

"Why?"

"Because if your careful, you're going to be out of a job. Chance, I've found, is a pretty good co-pilot."


End file.
